Titanium
by Mynt Mint
Summary: NDs with super powers - When the New Directions arrive back from their crippling defeat at Nationals, Sue gives them a gift. A shlusie facial... glowing flavour? Odd happenings soon unravel and the Glee Club finds themselves hostage within McKinley walls.
1. Glowing Slushies and Growing Wings

**Title**: Titanium  
><strong>Author<strong>: Mynt Mint  
><strong>Fandom<strong>: _Glee_, Season Two, AU  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Supernatural /Angst  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T, may escalate to M  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong>: Character Death, Possible Language, and Possible Sexual References  
><strong>Pairings:<strong> Brittany/Santana, Sam/Puck, Mike/Tina, Finn/Rachel  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: I don't own Glee. Damn. All characters and songs used in this fan fiction are the property of their rightful owners (i.e. not me).

**Summary**: After a disappointing loss at Nationals, the New Directions are greeted with a slushie facial from Sue. But they contents of the slushies are soon put into question as soon as Santana grows wings and Kurt creates a psychic barrier. What the hell is going on in McKinley?

**AN:** Hey guys, for a while I have wanted to write a fic about the New Directions out of the norm, and I finally dreamed of a plot to make it happen. This is AU, set just after Nationals. I might also make people a touch more BAMFy if I feel like it. If there is any spelling/grammar errors please tell me so I can fix. I'm also looking for a Beta Reader if anyone is interested, PM me. I also love reviews, and it is the main motivation for my writing, so please review! I am not a fan of heterosexual fiction, so most of the pairings won't be. Yay? Also, **please do not translate, distribute or save this story without my consent.**

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><p>The New Directions walked sourly back into their choir room, Mr. Schue triumphantly holding up a small trophy. His students sighed in resentment at the taunting reminding of their National Show Choir Failure. They had worked tirelessly, yet their efforts were through away in seconds of lust thanks to Finn and Rachel. The two in question had their eyes glued to the floor, too guilty to lift their heads up and risk eye contact with their friends.<p>

"C'mon, guys," Mr. Schue sighed in an effort to raise their spirits. "You can't deny that we had fun!" The New Directions sighed at his enthusiasm. They did soften a little, but they still maintained stony expressions, leaving the room in tense silence until Sue Sylvester embraced the Choir Room with a smug look on her face. She led a line of students, all of them carrying a cup of vibrant green slushie. It almost looked as if… the slushies were _glowing_?

"Evening Will," Sue sneered, triggering the students behind her to exchange grins. They all proceeded to stand in a line facing the New Directions, who were now guardedly sitting in their chairs. "Well, seeing at it's the last time you and your show choir will be lamenting the atmosphere of this _painfully musical_ room, I thought it would be nice to give you a parting gift."

On Sues cue, she and her students raised their cups brimming with slushies threateningly. The New Directions cringed, knowing they were surrounded. They shielded their faces with their arms, trying to cover as much of themselves as they could, as Sue and her students slowly placed their hands by their sides, not releasing the unrelenting ice cold slushies she had implied.

"Now, Will, you wouldn't think I would do this to you? Not after your gracious effort at Nationals," Sue said warmly. The New Directions and Will sighed in relief, but before their exhalation could complete they were coated in thick, green goo. Thanks to their false sense of security, all the New Directions (and Will) were hit. "Yeah, I would," Sue cackled, before she and her students left in a lengthy line. Sue was last, saluting Will with a cocky grin before slamming the door behind her.

"She can't do this!" Finn roared in frustration, wiping the slushie out of his eyes.

"Well, at least this batch wasn't cold," Kurt said over Santana's ferocious Spanish. "I swear the cold ones are like being bitch-slapped by an iceberg."

"Now that you mention it, are these even slushies?" Tina queried. "I mean, these feel different, and I swear they're _glowing._" Tina looked legit with her question, and it had merit.

"Eugh!" Brittany cried, spitting out some slushie. "This tastes like the sandwich I ate after leaving it in my bag all holidays. What?" She added, as the New Directions screwed their noses up in disgust at the thought.

"I don't feel so good. My head is killing me," Santana whined. She began rubbing her temples to numb the pain, but recoiled in shock as she felt unfamiliar bumps. "The hell?" She thundered as her shoulder blades began to omit a wave of change. It was painful, and Santana cried out, burying her face in her hands. She effectively gained the concerned attention everyone in the room as she arched her back to combat the relentless pain that was surging through it.

"Oh my." Brittany said, covering her mouth with her hand. She hated seeing Santana like this, it made her feel pained too. It was as if they were connected by an invisible bond, the two always knew what the other was feeling – and they always tried to help. But right now, it was proving difficult. Brittany wanted desperately to hold Santana's hand, to comfort her, but she could only watch. Watch as the Latina's shoulder blades _grew out_. It pushed out past the skin, pushing out the tight cheerio uniform. With a gasp from the audience, it broke through. The bone wasn't bone anymore. It had layers of feathers in various shades of black, all sleek and shaped. With the last anguished cry the growing stopped abruptly, and the immense pain Santana had felt was gone.

Everyone stared wide-eyed at Santana, who gave them daggers, oblivious to the result of her aches. They all stood in silence, until Brittany tugged on Santana's shoulder and addressed the elephant in the room.

"Uh, San," she began," Remember you said you wouldn't cheat on me with anyone? You didn't say any bird." Santana's brow furrowed as she tried to interpret the meaning behind the enigma that is Brittany's words. "You have wings," Brittany pointed out bluntly, stroking one of them.

"Stop, stop, it tickles," Santana laughed, pulling Brittany's hand away playfully. "Wait – what?" It dawned on Santana what Brittany had said, and she cringed her neck around to discover a pair of wings supporting themselves. "Wow," she whispered in amazement, "I can't even feel them." Santana's face tensed with concentration and a short while later her wings fluttered in response.

"I can get used to this," Santana grinned to herself.

"You also have horns," Brittany informed lightly.

"_What?_"

"Just here." Brittany placed a finger carefully on each of the short, devil-like horns protruding from Santana's temples. Santana shooed her hands away and felt the lumps for herself, her face contorting in horror as she felt up the curve to the blunt tip. "Don't worry, they totally make you look sexy."

"You sure?" Santana asked, gingerly massaging the tips. She could feel the horns, but not the wings. And the horns hurt.

"Definitely," Brittany replied, linking her pinky with Santana's. Santana smiled at Brittany for a moment, before jumping up at a thought.

"I bet I can fly!" She said confidently, stepping backwards to the wall of the choir room. "Watch this." With a running start, Santana jumped forward into the air, her wings working furiously to support her. _For something that weighs nothing, these things can sure hold their own_, Santana review mentally. She circled half of the room before tiring herself out. It was then she realized that she didn't know how to land safely.

"Move!" She ordered, flailing her arms in an attempt to scare her path clear. Her wings began to faltered and they closed, making Santana head for the ground where Mike was standing. This trigger a chain of discovering events. Mike skillfully jumped out of the way, letting Santana claim the floor while he skyrocketed upward – hitting the ceiling with a dull thud.

"Whoa," Tina whispered in amazement, not registering that the dull thud probably hurt. Mike began to fall the, right above Kurt.

"I can catch you!" Kurt assured a dizzy Mike, despite his voice revealing his false confidence. Kurt raised his arms up, hands stretched, ready to take most of the blow for Mike. But instead another small _thud_ was heard, and Kurt looked up from his position.

"Whoops, is that me?" Kurt said innocently, scanning the room to see if anyone else could be the cause of the purple transparent barrier suspending Mike above. "I guess it is. Go figure," Kurt shrugged. After all, the barrier was bordering him spherically. He slowly relaxed his fingers, and the barrier faltered before disappearing completely, letting Mike fall into Kurt, who caught him and stood him upright.

"I owe you one, man," Mike thanked Kurt, brushing the dirt of himself.

"No problem," Kurt hummed, inspecting his fingernails for changes. They seemed to be glowing with a faint purple. _How ironic_, Kurt thought, _but wasn't the slushie green? Wait a second..._

"Hey, guys, have you noticed something?" Kurt asked openly. "We're all clean," he answered himself before anyone else could try to.

"Hey!"

"You're right!"

"Thank God, 'cause hell if I'm ruining my weave for slush!"

"Was that even slushie?" Artie had asked the question that was on the tip on everyone's tongue. They had all received enough slushie facials to know that the only side effects are freezing skin and the not-so-fresh feeling downstairs. Side effects do not include wings, psychic barriers, or instant cleanliness.

"Who cares? I have wings!" Santana cheered, apparently accepting her life-changing mutation with ease.

"Well, I want to know." Kurt answered Artie defiantly before storming out the room with fierce finesse.


	2. Blissful Comeuppance

**A/N: **This would be a good time to mention the AU events that occurred before this. Karofsky's kiss with Kurt never happened, therefore there is no Kurt leaving, no Klaine relationship, and Karofsky is still as harassing as ever. Hopefully how this ties into the story will be a testament to why it needed to be done. This chapter is a little longer than the one before, but I felt it was appropriate. I was also going to add Brittany's POV to this chapter, but I felt it didn't fit in, so I'm leaving it for another time (it would have explained a lot, but still, I believe it can wait).

P.S. I forgot to mention that there is Character Death in this fiction. I don't know the exact time, but it will happen. I am also debating whether to continue with the current pairings I had planned. I may just stick with the ones in the original Glee, but I still don't know… Any guidance would be appreciated.

P.S.S. Also, thank you for the kind favourites, alerts, and reviews. Making my day, you are :D .

P.S.S.S. Sorry for any mistakes, grammatical or spelling wise. I'm still looking for a beta reader, so if you're interested let me know via PM!

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><p>"Mike, are you okay?" Tina worried, rushing over to him.<p>

"Nothing an Asian kiss won't fix," Mike replied sweetly. He leaned into before she recoiled in horror, leaving him rather confused.

"Mike! Your head is bleeding!" Tina gasped. She pulled Mike over to a chair and began to pull his hair, checking for blood like a monkey checking for lice. He sat, bemused and aware of the snickers he was receiving from the other New Directioners.

"Do you feel dizzy? I hope you don't have a concussion," Tina worried. Her voice was warm, in a motherly kind of way.

"Well, I do kinda feel woozy," Mike mumbled quietly, not wanting to provoke Tina into embarrassing him further.

"It seems to be bleeding from here." Tina parted Mikes hairline, exposed the damaged scalp underneath. "Shouldn't you apologize," Tina accused Santana, glaring.

"Calm yourself, it's Dancer Boy's fault for jumping on springs." Santana wasn't intimidated, easily washing the blame off.

"I can help!" Brittany piped. She jumped up and rushed over to Mike, playfully forcing herself into Tina's position. "Don't worry," she soothed Mike, "I'm like a doctor. Every time I play Operation I get buzzed as the winner before I even take out the funny bone!"

Mikes eyes widened now that his health was in the hands of Brittany. He only felt a small throb of pain in the back of his skull, but the ditsy blonde couldn't remedy that. She would probably turn him comatose. He thought about moving, but the fear of disrupting Brittany and damaging himself more froze him stiff.

_Oh god, I'm going to die in Glee Club,_ Mike thought anxiously. He could feel the throb of pain more clearly now. He tensed as he felt Brittany prod at his wound, twisting his face slightly to deal with the sharp, short burst of pain. And then it all felt fine. Not even the slight throb from before was there.

"Wow, Brittany," Tina gasped, "the wound's gone!" Tina had been supervising the exchange the whole time, a little frustrated that someone else was doing her job. So she was a little possessive, so what?

"You're welcome!" Brittany's eyes twinkled as she skipped happily back to her seat next to Santana, whose wings were fluttering with pride.

"…How?" Was all Mike could manage as he conversed with Tina, started a hushed conversation which was drowned out by Finn's sudden outburst.

"Wait… you guys!" His eyes widened dramatically as his idea surged down his brain and out through his mouth, "We have superpowers!"

"Well, not all of us," Sam pouted. In his eyes, he was the one who deserved them the most. He was the one who fantasized about it, his many comic books attest to that, and he could use royalties from his profession to help his struggling family.

"That doesn't matter," Finn said, turning back to his original train of thought. "We can use this, we can _fight back_."

"But superheroes aren't meant to abuse their –oh…!" Sam realized, stopping halfway through his interjection.

"Santana, go catch up with Kurt and tell him to wait." Santana looked up with fear at the mention of her name.

"Me? Go outside?" She pointed behind her back at the pair of wings nestling out of her shoulder blades. It was as if someone had cut off the wings of a large eagle and joined them to Santana's skeleton. "I don't know if you haven't realized, but I have _wings_. Not fairy wings, full blown _feather eagle _ones. Besides, I don't even know if I can fit through the door." Santana shifted uncomfortably in her chair before giving in to the heavy stares the room was giving her. With a sigh she breathed Spanish profanities quietly before leaving the room.

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><p>Kurt walked impatiently to the office of Coach Sylvester, his rushing increasing the sway of his hips tenfold. He just turned into a corridor, deserted except for Karofsky, who was begrudgingly walking in the opposite direction of Kurt. As they passed each other Karofsky viciously shoved Kurt into the lockers.<p>

"'Sup, Homo?" he grinned before walking away. Kurt regained his stance, turning red with anger. He watched Karofsky walk away freely, each of his echoing footsteps making Kurt more and more angry. He shouldn't be allowed to treat him like that. _Noone_ should be able to treat _anyone_ like that, but Karofsky could treat little Gay Kurt worse than a dog. Why? _Why_? And, for that matter, why didn't Kurt retaliate? Kurt had always known. Because he feared the confrontation would lead into a fight, and Kurt had spent too much money cleansing his face to have it tinted with bruises and cuts.

_But, what if I don't need a _physical _confrontation?_ Kurt grinned devilishly, his brain working maniacally. Based on his abilities in the choir room, maybe he could do a little more than a tiny barrier? He pondered a moment, considering the chances of his escapade succeeding, before gloomily accepting defeat. His anger had died down now, and therefore his motivation to defend himself. He looked up at the figure of Karofsky, painfully watch him near the end of the corridor. He turned to face Kurt, flipped him the bird, and rounded the corner.

It was amazing how just a small hand signal could revive Kurt's anger, driving the boy to follow his attacker. Kurt traced Karofsky into another empty corridor (not surprising since it was the middle of the period), and spoke out.

"Hey!" He roared, making Karofsky face him in surprise. "What the hell is your problem?" Karofsky's face went from a smirk to stony in less than a second.

"_My problem?_" He screeched, slowly walking towards Kurt. Kurt's anger was still bubbling, but it was being battled by the fear wedged in his brain. Karofsky could easily pummel him to a pulp, and there were no witnesses at this time. "My problem is that there's this gay kid that just _pisses me off_, flaunting his goods like everyone should stop and congratulate him." Karofsky was mere feet away from Kurt now, his voice was cold, quiet and venomous. Kurt could hear the anger hidden subtly in the calm strides, the twitching lip, and the fidgeting hands that were now getting closer. "What's your problem, _Hummel_?" Karofsky drawled the last word, looking him in the eyes. He walking closer, slower, like the masked killer silently approaching his victim.

"My-My problem is you!" Kurt chided, trying to defend himself but not aggravate Karofsky. Karofsky moved closer, just more than an arm's length away, and he wasn't stopping. Kurt didn't like it, with each step he felt a tightness in his chest, a hitch in his breath, more sweat trickle down his brow. "Stop!" Kurt yelled, pushing his arms outwards in hope to repent Karofsky away. Instead, Karofsky was pushed with an invisible force, rocketing backwards and tumbling over himself before sliding to a stop. He got up, confused and angry.

"Grrr… Hummel!" He growled, dusting himself off and now sprinting towards Kurt, malicious intent obvious by the fire in his eyes.

"S-Stop!" Kurt yelled again, slightly faltering. And, again, Karofsky was hurled backwards. Kurt scanned the hall quickly, wondering if anyone had seen the confrontation. No one had, which was good news. Karofsky was slumped against the wall as Kurt fled the scene, trying to make sense of it and hold back a triumphant grin.

Kurt didn't quite understand what was happening to him, but in his current adrenaline rushed state, he hoped it wasn't just a phase. He had never exhibited signs of psychic abilities before. I mean, sure, he was a straight A student, taking several AP classes and fluent in a number of languages, but that wasn't psychic. That was just smart. It had only started in the Choir Room, after he was almost squashed by Mike. But what would have… - the _slushies_. That was the only possible explanation. They sure as hell weren't normal slushies, but why would have the effects that they did? Usually they only gave Kurt one hell of a dry cleaning bill (you can't simply machine wash his clothing), and an icy temperature. Just _another question for Coach Sylvester that gets added to the pile_, he thought. He quickly checked the size of his forehead. Santana had grown wings, so it wasn't impossible for his skull to have increased in size. After all, when his supernatural powers took hold, he could feel his brain react. He could feel it direct, tell objects what was to happen then send the signal through his hands. It was like sharing bodies with a separate force. Like being conjoint twins with an invisible person who can hurl fat footballers into walls, something along those lines.

He shook his head to clear it and walked further away from where Karofsky lay. He was a little worried, but he deserved it. Besides, he didn't want to be there when he woke up. Someone will help him, believing that he slipped on the dirty floor or something. The important thing is that no one else _saw_ what had happened. All Kurt needed was to be crowned King Psychic Gay of the school. Even thought the prospect of telekinetic abilities did see enthusing, McKinley would have no trouble regurgitating it like it was a vile habit or life threatening allergy.

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><p>Santana exited the Choir Room with an agitated sigh. She was angry that she had to go fetch Kurt, but then again the plan the New Directions had concocted motivated and excited her to find him. The anticipation of it sent shivers through her spine, and made her wings flap lightly, which brought her back to her fear. Fear of judgment. Santana wasn't one to enjoy the ostracism of being an outcast, and having horns and wings wasn't going to bring inclusion. She scrutinized the every hallway she turned into, choosing the ones with the least amount or no amount of people.<p>

_For one I'm thankful for lessons_, she thought. She noticed her reflection while walking past a glass wall, and stopped to examine her new self. _Hmmm… I can make this work…_ She gave her wings a little flutter and she smiled with relief. She had pulled of the skimpy nurse outfit, the flirty devil with wings wasn't much of a step above. Okay, maybe a little, but she had to admit that the wings, sleek and black and full, were definitely a positive. She was surprised her back didn't ache from supporting them, but maybe feathers were light. They folded comfortably against the curve of her spine, as if pillowing her back. The horns, on the other hand, were a little bit of a turn off. Luckily Santana's face leveled the distraction, making her still seem hot. And she guessed paired with the wings it lessened the oddness of it, as they were coherent. She could just pretend it was a post-Halloween costume and still strut her stuff around the hallways without much changing.

She strayed from her reflection to continue searching for Kurt, her hips exhibiting a now more confident sway as she walked. She could lie most of the damage to her reputation away, but she could be scathed in the process. Kids of McKinley were complete asses, so she didn't know if her new appearance would be taken as a kinky pleasure or freak plea of attention. Either way, there would be talking, if she heard it or not. And that chewed her up inside.

Now matter her self-confidence or pride, Santana would always care about other people's opinions. Those who didn't were stupid. If you are fine with whom you are, and everyone else wasn't that just shows poor judgment on your part. Maybe you're just overlooking a socially unacceptable trait of yours, and simply concluded that everyone else was against you out of jealousy or spite?

Santana rolled her eyes at herself. She hated when she became this inquiring and vulnerable person, even if it was just inside her head. Those questions made her flinch and give her second thoughts on almost everything. Landing on one conclusion, then being swayed to the next, before evaluating them both and making a realization that would surely be converted in a minutes time of grinding her thoughts. It made it seem everyone could be against her, even if she knew for a fact the person in question was incapable of it. Sometimes she wondered if Brittany was just with her falsely, and if she would gossip about her how she thought everyone else did. She wondered if after she left the room everyone would whisper harshly about her, or if there were groups of people who would bitch about her secretly and discreetly.

She began to place a finger on each of temples to calm herself, before releasing that her horns were occupying the space. She swore under her breath and shook her head to clear it of her conjecturing thoughts and turned a corner, bumping into Kurt. He looked flustered, and he seemed to be feeling his forehead in an odd manner.

"The hell are you doing?" Santana asked.

"Oh? Oh, nothing, nothing," Kurt panted. He seemed a little red in the face, but it his eyes glossed over with a realization of some sort before his face split into an ear-wide grin. "Nothing," he repeated darkly, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong with _me_," Santana emphasized, trying to convince herself more than she was Kurt. "But for Sue there will be. Come on, I'll explain on the way." Santana led the way, not hearing Kurt's irritated mumble.

"I already was on my way…" He trailed off in sentenced as he trailed behind Santana, dragging his feet.

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><p>Will rested against the piano, closing his eyes to try and process the new events that had happened moments ago. He thought it was ironic in a way – how the shortest of time can make the biggest of change. How the ordinary can reverse into the abnormal. How Santana can suddenly grow wings or Mike jump so high to hit the ceiling, or how Kurt could make an impenetrable force field. He ran a hand through his hair, pausing to play with one of the short curls. He was a little ashamed of how inconsiderate he was being. He knew he should be concerned for his kid's possible health scares and the like, but instead his mind wondered to how this could help their chances at Nationals again next year - a flying Santana, a jumping Mike, and a psychic Kurt. Man, that lost had messed him up bad. He had felt so confident in the competition, but his students had fallen short of his expectations.<p>

Well, not all of them. Just Finn and his raging hormones. Did he have to have a make out session _on stage?_ Will tugged on a lock of his hair, successfully pulling himself out of his funk. Time to help the kids. After all, that's what a teacher is for. He wished Brad the pianist was there, but he had left to go on vacation now that the School year was nearly finished. Damn, now Will had to take full leadership of this (not that Brad have ever taken even a little of it before).

"Okay guys, gather round. We have to sort this out." He waited patiently for everyone to crowd around him, giving him time to add impact to the speech he was about to give. He swiftly planned like he always did: outlining the importance of unity, acceptance, and overcoming obstacles. He didn't wait for Kurt or Santana to return. He was pretty confident he knew what they were attempting, and usually he would object out of fear of their safety, but right now it seems that they could protect themselves, so he happily let them go.

"Now, we all know that something fishy is happening-"

"Fishy is a security guard stalks you in a store. Even when you haven't stolen anything. This is downright wack!" Puck interjected, with mutual nods from the crowd.

"Yeah, since when can someone just _grow wings?_"

"And _heal wounds_?"

"And _jump into the ceiling?_"

Everyone looked expectantly at Will, who gave in with a sigh and continued.

"We all know something... 'wack'… is happening, but it's important that we stay calm and don't panic." Will started, treading on his words carefully. Puck seemed to be amused at his description of the situation. He turned and faced Sam.

"Hey, man," he called, gain Sam's attention. Sam jumped, eyes blinking quizzically. "Don't you have stashes of comic books? Those guys in them usually have powers." Puck gazed, hinting at Sam before realizing he didn't have a clue. "Tell us what happens to them, nitwit." He blew out a strong breath, amazing by Sam's inability to get a clue. Apparently Sam was too, and he blushed, embarrassed.

Sam had been secretly hoping someone would ask him for help. After all, superpowers were the first thing on his list at Christmas (up until he was fourteen, but still), and if it were a subject, he would have aced it, despite his dyslexia. He was thrilled, but managed to was able to not show it in his voice.

"Well, uh… the people usually get powers from accidents. And nuclear waste. That last ones a biggie," he added thoughtfully, biting his lip in concentration. "Yeah, it's almost always nuclear waste. But it's not like they put that in slushies," he said, dismissing the option.

"But didn't anyone actually see them? The slushies were green. And I thought they were glowing," Tina said uneasily.

"Yeah… I thought it was my-" Puck stopped himself. "Yeah," he repeated , dipping his head.

"But that's just stupid," Quinn said angrily, "there's no such thing as a_ nuclear waste slushie."_

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><p>Sue watched Becky run from her office, pleased that she had given her such valuable information. It was nice to have an extra pair of everything to work for you. Unfortunately, the information intercepted wasn't good. It was what Sue had been dreading. She knew there was a chance it would happen, but she disregarded the odds continued her plan as usual. And it resulted in failure. It was a failure now, and it would most likely cascade into multiple more along the road.<p>

With a roar of anger she pulled open her desk drawer, retrieving her diary. Narrowing her eyes in thought she sought refuge in the therapeutic methods of self-expression via her good old diary. Sure, it wasn't expressing herself to others, but that didn't matter. As long as her thoughts were kept somewhere else instead of her head it was fine. And at least those Glee brats wouldn't be able to call her a hypocrite. She shuddered at the thought, which fueled her writing more.

'_It happened. What I had dreaded, what I had prayed wouldn't happened. Something good happened to the Glee Club, which is in comparison bad for me, and it is all my doing._

_It all started with their heartbreaking loss at Nationals. They seemed pretty upset – almost as if they didn't see it coming. Like an Ohio Glee Club has a chance to place at Nationals makes me laugh more than old people falling on sidewalks._

_But, they were genuinely upset, so I thought I would send them something to get their mind off that pain and onto a new one – the realization that they are still at the bottom of the food chain. My cheerios are at the top, Glee at the bottom, and I am the one who carves the chain from the iron of me myself. _

_And what better way to say – 'hey, you're all losers and you still all suck more than the amount of vest's Will has' than to drown them in slushies. The plan was simple, and I thought of it quick. I was quite proud of it, but the dates were against my wishes. The school had stopped with the production of slushies on the second to last day of school, just to save money. So I had to improvise. I made my own replacement – and a fine one that represented all of them as a whole. I even memorized the recipe._

_Corn syrup, water, salt, dog food, and some green stuff from the science labs at school. I didn't know what the last one was, but I touched it with my bare hands and hypothesized what it could be. It wasn't acid, or anything that could physically damage them, so I was free from lawsuit. Also, it made the prettiest green – the glowing colour of envy. So all it goes, into the processor, and with some minor modifications I had created the perfect fake slush._

_And what happens next? They sprout wings. _Great._ But I can't help but wonder – I touched the putrid blend myself – what will happen to me? I have never been a fan of wings. If I wanted to be a bird I would have asked for 'black wing' surgery years ago. And the heights of flying are not something I like – getting a better view of a world full of idiots and teenagers – no. That isn't what I want. But I can't say I don't want something. I need something now; fate was in their court, so the ball should be passed into mine. I need something to level the playing field, as right now it's in their __favour__.'_

Sue looked up attentively from her venting at the sound of a thundering beat. The blinds on her windows shook in warning, and the glass of water next to her was rippling with every sound. The noise grew louder, coming towards her office and reverberating around it. The door was pushed open, and Sue waited guardedly for someone to show themselves.

* * *

><p>Kurt willed the door to Coach Sylvester's office open, and it did, forcefully. He was shivering in excitement. After a whole year of taking the sarcastic comments, ignorant abuse, and shame seminars he finally had the <em>power<em> to do something. Something that could rise above his fragile stature, make him seem intimidating - something that couldn't be traced back to him (in case he needed to resort to earlier methods. Leaving his thoughts behind to concentrate on the task at hand, Kurt used his powers to move Santana's into Coach Sylvester's office and into her iPod dock.

"I still can't believe she has one of those," Santana whispered, crouching near the door to not be seen.

"It's music, everyone likes some sort of it," Kurt said absent mindedly. He was surprised at how well he could maneuver levitating objects, considering it had only been roughly twenty minutes since receiving the ability to do so. _Maybe it's because it's small…_He thought, before clicking the play button. The fierce beat scared Coach Sylvester, who hadn't seen the iPod come into the room, sneak around and plug itself into the dock behind her. The song was unfamiliar to her, and she swung her swivel chair around see what the hell had happened.

"Quick! Now!" Kurt queued in a hoarse whisper. Santana quickly rushed up from her position and began to sing with the lyrics.

"_Look, what we have here,  
>Didn't see this coming…."<em>

Santana made sure her voice was slightly raspy and strong, underlying the contention of the song. She flexed out her wings to be as frightening as possible, adding more power to her voice as she did so.

"_The tables sure did turn on you,  
>Don't apologize, it's none of my concern.<br>You had your chance to make amends,  
>Now it's our turn to take the offense."<em>

That was Kurt's cue. He rose into the room, eyes glowing with authority as with one mental move all the papers off Coach Sylvester's desk and swirling into the air. He could tell she was furious, that she wanted to attack, but she couldn't. She wouldn't be able to touch them. The face she was making was priceless – raw anger mixed with sheer helplessness. Kurt smiled, narrowing his eyes. It did feel good, to be in his position. He searched deep into his chest to find his deep voice, and continued the song.

"_And it sure feels good, I see why do it.  
>To take control, shove those and screw it.<br>But now, honey, that ain't gonna work  
>'Cause your plan backfired,"<em>

Santana echoed the last word in an eerily high voice, now adding fear to the face of Sue Sylvester. Kurt could tell Santana had been wanting to do this as much as he had – maybe even a little more. She had been demoted to the bottom of the pyramids, and Kurt had… Well, to be honest, she hadn't done that much to Kurt. It made him feel slightly guilty, but them he remembered Glee Club, how she _loathed _them. And – duh! She was the one who slushied them. His voice grew with fury as he dwelled on his thoughts, the rooms belongings being tossed around level with Kurt's anger. Papers were flying, cheerleading trophies rattling in their case and some breaking through its glass and onto the floor.

* * *

><p>Sue hated that she had to duck under her desk and hide to avoid the whirlwind of her belongings. She was cringing with anger, and she couldn't do anything about it. Because she was scared. For the first time in God knows how long, Sue Sylvester had actually been sought out and cornered, like she did to so many others.<p>

Usually seeing from the other side of the spectrum gives people a change of heart, resulting in them having good behavior, but not Sue. Nosiree, that wasn't how she played the game. If someone challenged her, she would rise to it and defeat it. No matter how long it took, she vowed she would get revenge. The fact that the low life Glee kids had usurped her position as the confrontational fear-striker fueled her even more. She sat, hunched under her desk, her knuckles white from gripping her hands into fists. She could feel the wind of the rotating objects drift through her scalp.

_Soon, soon._ Was all she could think to soothe herself. Soon she would be able to retaliate, and she would make sure her retribution was twice as painful as this. Thrice. Umpteenth times as painful.

* * *

><p>Kurt willed the cyclone to stop, still singing to the music. He was surprised the commotion hadn't sparked curious bystanders, but at least it made things easier. And, for that matter, where was Becky? She was usually Coach Sylvester's right hand woman. Again, at least it made things easier. And Becky was a sweet girl – he couldn't justify putter <em>her<em> through this kind of treatment.

"_All that crap you've been giving,  
>We can finally give it back.<br>No remorse, regrets just repayment,  
>We'll see we get our money back.<em>

_So sleep with one eye open,  
>You'll never know when we strike next.<br>Let the fear consume you,  
>You've backfired and that's just that."<em>

Kurt and Santana stopped suddenly, Kurt retrieving the iPod without having to move. Coach Sylvester stayed quiet under her desk, probably not wanting to be seen in such a state of uselessness. Kurt snickered loudly, wordlessly confirming the message of the song: _'We're in charge now," _before exiting with his usual sway.

Santana followed him slowly, pausing at the door to look at the room they had just given a rough makeover. The trophy case was broken, the leather swivel chair ripped and its padding strewn over the floor. Trophies were lumped on the floor and hundreds of sheets of paper littered the floor. Dents were covering the walls and the desk, and the lamp on it was broken.

Santana laughed darkly before turning and exiting, hiding the fact she felt they went a little overboard. She hoped they hadn't hurt Sue – not _physically_.

_Oh well, now at least she'll know not to mess with Porcelain and Sandbags._ Santana thought, adding a small skip to her steps to catch up to Kurt.

* * *

><p><strong>AN Again: **The song, _Backfired_, written by me. Crappy, I know, but I didn't know of any song that could represent the situation at hand. As always, please favourite and review, as I only keep writing if I know people are interested in reading.


	3. Burning Invisibility

**A/N:** Here is the third chapter of Titanium, I hope you enjoy. I just need to clarify something about Klaine: the friendship is still there, just not the relationship. Because everyone seemed persistent on wanting Blaine, I thought I could try and satisfy the need by giving him a small cameo. I'll see how it turns out. Probably nothing big, so don't expect too much.

Also, I'm very curious to see what powers you want everyone to have – I have already planned most to a way that fits their characters ironically or straightforwardly, but I'd still like to see your ideas too. Plus, some can be switched and edited if you have absolutely brilliant powers that would make God himself jealous. This chapter is more of a filler until I sort that out – and it kinda ends a little abruptly. I need to sort out these powers before I continue.

And I also need opinions on the Sam/Puck relationship I so dearly want to include. They're my OTP, so yeah. I can write Samcedes and Luck if people want, so the choice is in your hands.

And I'm still looking for a Beta Reader, if anyone is interested. PM me for details. And thanks to whoever liked the song – that made my day!

I really do hope you're enjoying this, and I'm incredibly anxious for some feedback. Reviews and Critique, please!

* * *

><p>Santana and Kurt burst back into the Choir Room, the adrenaline caused by their rebellion still coursing through their veins. They looked at everyone with thrilled expressions, unable to find the right words to disclose the rush they received through their actions.<p>

"That felt GREAT!" Kurt squealed, eventually managing to wheeze out a sentence.

"Felt _so_ good," Santana agreed, clapping her hands together with an enthusiastic smile.

The Choir Room was filled with an awkward silence, and Santana pressed her lips together as she read back what they had said in her mind. She noticed the double entendre, and apparently Kurt did too.

"N-No!" He flushed, "not that! We just showed Coach Sylvester what we could do."

The pride in his voice made the New Directions stare, even more dumbfounded than before.

"Just. Wanky." Santana placed a hand to her forehead, sliding it down, hoping the friction would relieve her irritation. She was met with playful giggles, and she lightened immensely when Brittany patted the seat next to her, motioning for her to sit.

"We just showed Sue the..." Kurt struggled to find a suitable word for their newfound abilities. "...Aftermath of her little visit." He settled with the word, content, before sitting taking a seat next to Mercedes. She welcomed his with a sly grin, satisfied that Sue got her what she deserved, and even more so as it was two Glee Clubbers who did so.

"Aren't you scared Sue'll fight back? She doesn't look like she'll take crap, even if it's owed to her," Mercedes asked Kurt. There was a hint of worry in her voice, which made him laugh.

"Nothing I can't handle," he replied simply. He turned giddy with the thoughts of how his powers could progress with proper dedication and training.

"My boy's got it all figured out." Mercedes was smiling, amused at the thought. Though amused, she couldn't help let her smile falter as she exposed the small but begrudging desire for having what Kurt had.

Sue rose from her crevice, dusting herself off. Surveying the room, her eyes narrowed in anger. She shoved her hands into fists, tensing so hard that her bony flesh turned pale – and by looking around, it wasn't hard to see why. It was more of an under reaction for Sue.

She was so torn – she wanted so much to give those snot nosed Glee Kids torture for their crimes, but she was scared of the consequences. It only fueled her fire that she realized she couldn't do anything without retaliation, and it sucked. Her anger was building, and there was no usual release available. She finally knew how it felt – but she refused to let it stay that way.

How could she redeem herself and reinstate herself as the alpha once more? A call to her lawyer, Gloria Aulburn? No, after all, they didn't _touch_ anything. The cameras she installed would pick up that immediately. There had to be a way – she knew there was. This wasn't some false hope that Christians got from praying, but a faded memory, tugging back into her view. Someone had talked to her about something just like this – and she purposefully made a note of it. After all, who predicts this with such accuracy? She sighed, tapping her fingers on the pages of her now open diary. She didn't notice that a page had been neatly torn, secretly stolen by the paranormal actions of one Kurt Hummel.

Will pushed himself up off the piano, before clasping his hands together with an audible clap and a heavy sigh. That was the cue that he had something to say, and routinely everyone turned their attention to him. He bit his lip in thought, trying to muster up instructions and direction for this type of situation.

"Well, some pretty weird stuff has happened in just under…." He glanced at his watch, "forty five minutes." He smiled at their sniggers, glad they appreciated the joke in what could possibly be a time for crisis. "So we need to sort this out before the recess bell goes, which is fairly soon. Kurt, Santana, Mike, you three are the only ones so far who have exhibited powers."

"What about me?" Brittany pouted, pulling puppy dog eyes.

"Sorry Brittany, you too," Will hastily apologized. The four mentioned looked rather haughty, hollering proudly when they heard their names. Will ignored them and spoke to the rest of his class. "Everyone else was hit with the slushies too, so it's possible that you just haven't discovered your new abilities yet, so just be careful. If something strange happens, find a glee member and ask for help. It would be wise not to draw any unwanted attention, so leave the place as fast as you can."

His students seemed to ignore his warning, more focused on the fact they could still have a chance at receiving superpowers. They chatted amongst themselves excitedly before Rachel interrupted.

"Um, _no_," she said, as if her words made perfect sense and anyone who wasn't following was mentally insane. "We just had a _crushing_ defeat at Nationals, and you're all already wasting time? We can't spend a second distracted, who cares about wings or force fields: we're a _Glee Club_, not the Justice League!"

"Resisting the urge to give you a psychic bitch slap is so hard," Kurt lamented, shaking his head.

"Not to mention a physical one," Santana snarled.

"Guys, back off," Finn said sternly, defending Rachel, who smiled at him. "Rachel's right. We need to practice."

"Please," Santana scoffed, "you think we're going to practice _singing_ after me and my homeboy just trashed Sylvester's office. At least we know you're superpowers aren't brains, or else you're failing horribly."

"You what?" Will gasped. "You guys, Sue won't back down; she'll want to get you back."

"Let her try," Santana challenged. She played with the tips of her nails, effectively ending that line of conversation. The bell to commence recess swiftly sounded after that, and the students filed out of the class in a surprisingly stiff fashion. Will wondered why, and soon discovered as he saw Sue enter, looking rather smug considering recent events.

"Howdy, Will!" She said loudly and obnoxiously – her usual way of greeting.

"What do you want, Sue?" Will replied. It was obvious in his tone the he really didn't want to speak to her, and that he was tired of her piercing remarks and attacks at his Glee Club.

"Well, I just thought that I'd sent you a pleasant calling card, just like Mask Demasque sent before he tried – and failed - to steal my vast collection of cheerleading trophies. Your kids aren't human anymore, Will."

"Just like you," he smiled sweetly. The contrast of his words and his pitch rubbed against Sue's ears like sandpaper. Her face emitted raw anger and she continued speaking with much more volume.

"Those superhuman freaks-"

"That's technically your fault," Will interjected sardonically, but Sue ignored him

"Those superhuman freaks trashed my office, and now they're going to _pay_." The last word came out a low, rough sound. Sue's eyes were burning holes into Will's, which were now looking slightly concerned. Sue caught his emotion, and played on it like a lion waiting for a gazelle to lie down.

"Now, I can't sue them because they didn't actually _touch_ anything, so I'll have to leave my lawyer, Gloria Aulburn, out of this, but I found someone who can help me. And by help me I mean help me by helping me be unhelpful to you." She slid a business card onto the piano, relishing the look of owlish eyes brimming with anxiety on Will. She clucked her tongue and turned to exit. "Good luck," she said evilly, not turning to look back as she said it.

She left and Will inspected the card in his hands. A logo consisting of a highly polished and glowing green crystal circled by equally shining crystals of red, gold, blue, black, white, silver, and orange was on one side of the card. He flipped it over, and the name _Kryptonights_ was written, and nothing else. The font itself troubled Will even more, as it looked etched into the surface, but it was _glowing_. Not an effect on paper, but there was light emitting from the word, and it cast an eerie glow over Will's face.

* * *

><p>The New Directions were feeling mixed emotions as they left the Choir Room, and rightly so. Santana was self-conscious about her wings. She had realized that everyone had under reacted in the Choir Room, and the rest of the school was taking the appearance much more differently. Heads turned, people whispered behind hands, giggles and pointing fingers. One jock even went as far as to try and pull some feathers, but they felt a swift, imaginary hand collide into their face. They left speechless and confused, not noticing a smirking Kurt. Santana didn't realize it before, but it was amazing how so little people cared if she knew she was the article of their conversation or not.<p>

She reflected on her past actions and open confrontations with people she didn't particularly find appealing, and realized she couldn't complain without seeming hypocritical. So she did what she always did – she straightened her ponytail, placed her hands on her hips and graced everyone with her presence. Pretending that her wings were just a new costume was working nicely – it made her seem confident in approaching new styles, and it kind of added to the sexiness factor. She sauntered away from the group, heading to her locker with Brittany.

Rachel, rather annoyed that her suggestion – or should we say, demand – to focus attention on signing and song selection was dismissed, walked sourly along the corridors alone, pushing past the traffic. She twisted her face into a scowl, which only changed when blue ice made contact with her face.

"I saved it special for you: congratulations for your Nationals win!" A sarcastic insult was thrown by someone, but she could see who. The voice was gruff, and she expected one of the jocks was the culprit. She was fuming – there was nothing like blue corn syrup to further dampen ones mood. She was dripping with cold, blue gunk and she was spoiling her brand new reindeer sweater. She was seething. She wanted nothing more than to disappear into thin air, leaving no trace of her slushie sodden presence. And she did.

* * *

><p>Tina sat in the school's garden cordially waiting for Mike. He had told her to meet him here, so she was admiring the tranquil peace of nature while she killed time. The school's garden looked quaint, and it was great for when you want to deter your thoughts from the depression side effect of school, so it was a welcome and heavily maintained facility. Luckily, it was only occupied by Tina herself, which made Mike's instructions seem much more amorous. It made Tina flush with appreciation – she was still amazing by the fact she had managed to date one of the only nice jocks for such an extended period of time. She heard the soft sound of footsteps on grass, and looked up to see a smiling Mike.<p>

"Hey, beautiful," he said simply, kissing her cheek. She blushed, as she always did.

"Hiya, handsome," she purred. "What's that?" She noticed the picnic basket in his hands. He pulled out a checkered tablecloth and laid it on the grass.

"I thought we'd have a little picnic," He shrugged, pulling plates and cutlery from the basket. Tina sat with a goofy smile as Mike pulled various containers out.

"Is that salad?" She grinned.

"Chicken Feet!"

"_What?_"

"Kidding, kidding," he laughed, noting her bemused expression.

"Great, 'cause I'm _starving_." She gratefully took a fork from Mike and they ate together. They talked about various things – Glee, the Asian Community, and Mike's jumping skills.

"So, what's it like?" Tina asked, excited by the question.

"What's what like?"

"The _jumping_, Mike."

"Oh, it's kinda cool, I guess," he shrugged again, nonchalant regarding the matter. "I mean, I don't feel any different, and I haven't really had a chance to test it out yet."

Tina smiled, making Mike dip his head. He reached for the basket again, this time pulling out a rose.

"This is for you," he began, before the bell's shrill ring stopped him. "Crap. I have AP English with that old bat, Ms. Tabby. I have to go!" He gave her a rushed peck on the cheek before rushing out. Tina sighed and looked down at her rose. It was a light pink, and it smelt nice. She pulled the rose against her chest, inhaling the scent. She thought about Mike, and what he would have said if the bell hadn't interrupted him. Knowing Mike, it would have been something heartfelt and cute, like it was taken out of the Notebook or another movie.

She stared at her rose with glazed eyes, her love and affection from Mike pouring out from them. Her eyes turned from affectionate to shocked as the rose received her affection, changing color from pink to a crimson red.

* * *

><p>Puck sat in his Maths class extremely distracted by his utensils. He was seeing how long it would take the chick in front of him to notice he had stuck a pencil in her ponytail. It was amusing, watching her copy notes from the board, oblivious to his shenanigans. He laid his arms comfortably on his desk and nestled his head into the crook he created and closed his eyes. He felt snug, the beams of sunlight emanating through the window toasting him nicely.<p>

"Noah!" Puck sat up straight at the sound of his name being yelled so piercingly.

"Wha?" He slurred, drowsy from his five seconds of sleep.

"Can you please answer my question from before?" His teacher said, sweetly. She twirled a ruler in her hands, confident that he wouldn't be able to do what she had asked.

"Uhhh… no?" The second those words escaped his lips, Noah knew he was in deep crap. Especially since the teacher now had that look a cat gets when it finally corners the mouse. She promptly walked back to her whiteboard and sharply tapped on it with her ruler.

"Logarithms, Noah, is what we were have been learning today and for the past week." His teach had a very impatient tone. "What, may I ask, have you been doing in that time?" Her question was more to tease him in front of his classmates than one out of sincere curiosity, and it pissed him off. He wasn't exactly on good terms with faculty members, but it's not like they matter. He blushed and looked at his desk in response to the question, trying not to retort.

"I see," she mused, "come here, Noah." She was clearly not impressed, but Noah dragged his feet to her desk and maintained a bemused face until she began to scribble on a pink slip of paper.

"What's that for? I haven't done anything!" Noah said, trying to defend himself.

"Exactly. You're here to learn, not to sleep." She handed him his detention slip and he grouchily returned to his seat, mumbling suspiciously under his breath. He kicked his seat out from under his desk and sat down.

_Failure to maintain concentration during multiple mandatory lessons._ It didn't even sound like a harsh enough crime for a detention. So what? Studs sleep in school. It's not old news, but this particular teacher – who Puck never bothered learning the name of – seemed determined to transform Puck into a model student by flooding him with detentions, believing the end would justify the means. But Puck was too stubborn to cave into a teacher, so the end would never come, making the means unjustified from the start.

Puck channeled all his anger into crunching the detention slip in his fist instead of going ape on his teacher. He could feel a vein in his forehead throb and he began to shake violently, letting his anger was over him until it was gone. He looked at his hand to find the detention slip burnt to a crisp.

* * *

><p>Scribbling the last of her notes, Brittany laid back on her chair with a satisfied smile. Despite her prior difficulties with academic subjects, she seemed to have accelerated through the exercises of her science class with ease. Brittany felt smart and smug, and she had deduced why the sudden change had happened. <em>Those slushies<em>. They had seemed to be the cause for change amongst many of the Glee Clubbers. She didn't know why, but she was certain it was the cause.

The second the lukewarm sludge had landed on her skin she felt different – more… _intelligent_. Facts, memories and common sense had all filed into her from that second onward. She didn't really know how to react to it, but she hid it from the others – she didn't want to freak them out with her sudden brains. After all, she was the dopey yet lovable Brittany, and she didn't mind.

The incident with Mike – she didn't know she could do that. She was just going to assist in treating the wound, but a slip, then a prod and the problem was fixed. Now that had to be the slushies. She looked at her hands. They looked the same – except they were suspiciously clean. And that cut from Motocross was gone, too. She had received compliments on her appearance that were sincere instead of flirtatious today ("Brittany, you look absolutely _brilliant_! It's like you're _glowing_!"). Was she actually glowing, or was that just a figure of speech? No, she definitely wasn't glowing.

She hoped she wouldn't get anymore powers – brains and beauty _and_ magical healing powers was enough for one girl.

* * *

><p>I apologize for the terrible Tike scene – fluff is not my forte. Also… I wrote this terribly. Sorry.<p>

Also, thanks Kaishei for reminding me about the line breaks - I knew I was forgetting something!


	4. The Day Before The Last

A/N: Well, here is Chapter Four, and where I introduce my OTP :D ! Isn't it exciting? Sorry it took so long, I have a crapload of school work now.

Also, I'm trying to include some more songs (that aren't written by me (I can practically hear you sigh with relief)), so any requests or songs I'd be more than happy to try and include them somehow.

Okay, I wrote that above 6 months ago, and now I've finally finished the chapter. Oh dear, that's not very good at all. But anywho, I hope whoever does in fact read this gets some sort of enjoyment from it. If you can see past my horrible writing, that is. This chapter is more of a reminder I'm not dead, and to see if people actually still want to read this.

But wow, two updates in a day, I'm kind of proud of myself. *Pats back* Good job, me.

**Read and Review, I'll love you**

* * *

><p>Sam rested against his weight machine, pumping his shirt with his hand to guide air to his chest. Breathing deeply, he stood up and inspected his physique in the large mirror. He sighed, pinching his obliques. His shoulders sank as he managed to grab a decent chunk of his skin, which was misinterpreted as fat. He had made sure to check that the gym was empty, and it was. Who else but Sam would have the obsessive urge to exercise during his Lunch period?<p>

"Darn those Cool Ranch Doritos," he mumbled ruefully. He blinked, noticing the déjà vu, causing a goofy smile to stretch across his face. He made his way to the ice bath, staring at the tub and reflecting on his thoughts.

More of the students in the Glee Club had discovered they had powers now, and he was doing his best to smile with congratulations rather than frown with jealousy when they exhibited their new abilities. He was happy for them, he really was, he just couldn't disguise his longing. Even behind the jock look of his he was just a regular nerd, substituting the academic smarts for modest attractiveness.

When he had his own room it was covered with posters of Avatar, The Fantastic Four, The Justice League, and the like: he'd seen Avatar half a dozen times, and even though he won't admit it, he has had the tantalizing fantasy of gaining superpowers. More than once. And then, the once in a million chance for him to receive them comes along, and nothing.

_Nothing_, Sam thought bitterly, his brow furrowing. He stripped his shirt off and plunged into the icy water of the bath, hoping the brisk feeling would make his feelings wash away. In a way, they did. His bitter covetousness dissolving into shock as the part of him that was underwater seemingly disappeared. Sam jumped out of his bath, his body fully intact. He stared dumbly at the bath. He could always see his legs through the veil of the water, so why was this time so different?

Sam lifted a shaky hand, imitating the movements of Aqua Man when he received a new hand from the Lady of the Lake. Copying the distinct motions he had remembered, the digits on his outstretched hand twirled elegantly. Sam concentrated, maintaining his motions and willing for something to happen when the water from his bath gracefully moved upward into the air, synchronizing its movements with Sam's fingers.

"What…?" Sam mumbled to himself, a giddy smile stretching across his face. He snapped his hand into a fist, and the suspended water dropped lifelessly back into the bath with a small splash. "Yes!" Sam yelled in triumph, leaping across the room. He laughed carelessly. He had received powers with no visible downside: nothing else mattered right now. He was so caught up in celebration he didn't notice a figure enter the gymnasium, visibly amused by the choreography he witnessed. The boy waited with a coy smile, pausing to see if Sam would stop bounding around the room and noticed his presence. After half a minute his patience was worn thin.

"…Sam?"

Sam froze, one knee in the air and a hand suspended in motion. Staring blankly, his face lowered to relief as he saw it was Puck.

"Oh, it's just you," Sam sighed with smile.

"Just me? That's not the politest way to greet your boyfriend," Puck grinned, reaching Sam in two strides. He interlaced their hands before reaching in for a hello kiss.

It was a partially new secret relationship that only the Glee club and their families knew about: Spuck. It started off as a friendship, then blossomed into a bromance. Then when Sam moved into a motel, he noticed how caring Puck was being. He would order Pizza for him to deliver and try to force him to eat it with him, or at least take a hearty tip. He would give him clothes and still treat him like the same old Sam – which is what he liked the most. After the news of the motel broke out, everyone viewed him in an empathetic light, and it was bringing him down. Sure, he was living in a one room Motel with four other people, but he didn't need a constant reminder of it. And Puck would never mention it, and continue as if nothing had changed. They'd just sit and play video games like they always did. And then one night at Puck's house… well, it's obvious now, isn't it?

"I have something to show you," Sam announced, pulling out of Puck's arms. He balanced on the balls on his feet, trying to contain his excitement.

"Is it your dancing?"

"Shut up." Sam blushed slightly, turning his attention to the water. Twisting and tensing his fingers like before, he managed to manipulate another shaky ball of water. Letting it drop back into the bath he turned back to Puck. "So?"

"That's great!" Puck smiled, unable to suppress one at the sight of Sam's excitement. Sam looked like it was Christmas, and it was infectious. Puck found himself with giddy with empathetic pleasure. "Watch this," he instructed, making his hand into a fist. He opened it, and revealed the burning flames inside. He closed it again and extinguished the flame. Puck looked up at Sam, raising a confident eyebrow.

"Do you know what this means?" Sam marveled, unable to contain the joy in his voice.

"Duh," Puck said, "Hot, wet, steamy-"

"No," Sam laughed, "We're like superheroes! Isn't it amazing?"

"…Uh, I think I may need some more time before I can bash some Lima Losers and be a hero," Puck confessed, playing with the sleeves of his jumper. Sam noticed they were blackened and singed. "We've had these powers for less than three hours. Don't get ahead of yourself."

Puck gave Sam a hasty kiss and left the gym, leaving him alone. Sam had only had powers for about ten minutes, and he didn't know what to do with them. He had so many ideas, yet he couldn't divulge in any of them. It's like they all tried to get to the front of his brain first and they got stuck in the doorframe. But instead of ideas, he got questions. What happens when he gets wet? What if he tries to swim in public? Who can he tell? What would his hero alias be?

Sam returned back to the weights, hoping some physical exertion would calm his thoughts.

* * *

><p>"Mum! I'm home," Santana announced, slamming the door of her house with an obnoxious bang.<p>

"In the kitchen, sweetie," a voice called from a doorway. "How was school?"

"Eh," Santana said, walking into the kitchen and grabbing an apple from the dining table. She took a bite as her mother looked up from the stove, letting out a shriek as she noticed her daughter's appearance.

"Santana? What are you doing coming home like that!" Her mother sighed, "Wings? And horns? You look like a devil child! Take them off! Take them off _now_!"

"I can't," Santana said, bemused. "You act like I want to walk around as a human harpie."

"I don't care, _take them off_." Walking to her daughter, Santana's Mum forcefully tried to pull at the wings protruding from her daughters back.

"_Ow!_ Stop, that hurts," Santana pushed away, and her Mother screamed.

"They moved! _They moved!_"

"They're _real_." Santana looked down at her feet. "They're me."

* * *

><p>"I'm so glad you organized this last minute dinner, Kurt," Blaine said adoringly, stirring his drink with his straw. "I can't believe Breadstix is so quiet on Wednesdays."<p>

"Yeah," Kurt replied with a sigh.

"Hey," Blaine soothed, grasping his boyfriend's arm. "Something's up. Did Finn get food stains on your scarves again?"

"No, it's not that. It's this." Kurt checked that their adjacent tables were clear before levitating the basket of bread sticks on their table.

"Oh my God!" Blaine said in a hushed whisper. "How did you do that?"

"I dunno," Kurt replied, lowering the basket back onto the table. "It's gotten easier - usually only when I was pissed I could do real damage. Now I'm getting more control."

"But that's amazing!" Blaine laughed, "Why are you sad about it?"

"Because of this." Kurt withdrew a torn sheet of paper and slid it across the table, eying Blaine with curiosity. He took the news rather easily, if he says so himself.

Blaine's eyes darted across the paper as he spoke its contents.

"'_Soon, my revenge will be complete. Thanks to my trusty use of the internet and simple lying techniques I have enlisted the help of 'The Kryptonights' to rectify my retribution. Although I mock them for having a cringe-worthy name, they have shown that they would be formidable enough in my quest to win these rebounding attacks against those Gleek freaks.' _

"'_I can only wait in anticipation to witness the aftermath of their efforts. I hope they don't go in vain, like mine.'_"

Blaine looked up from the paper, stunned. "Wow. What is this?"

"It's a diary page. Sylvester's - she means business." Kurt bit the edges of his finely polished nails. "It's my fault. Me and Santana lost it and tore up her office. Now she'll probably rip the Auditorium from the school."

"I'm sure you're just overreacting," Blaine assured him. "School's over tomorrow, it'll probably just blow over."

Blaine was wrong.

* * *

><p>Settling for the night, Artie positioned his wheelchair in front his bed. Then, as if it was natural, he hoisted himself from his seat and walked around to fix his sheets.<p>

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><p>Okay, I was going to add a section about Quinn, but that will have to be first thing next chapter. I justed wanted to hurry up and post this so no one thinks I'm dead. I'm really sorry for the 6 month wait, because this is most likely very horribly written.<p>

**Please read and review, you know the drill!**

Mynt


	5. The Kryptonights

Well it has been a long time, but hi friends

there is a warning for this chapter, but it spoil stuff. It's at the bottom of this chapter, so if you are concerned please go to the bottom and check, otherwise read on.

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><p>Quinn lay in bed, sound asleep, peaceful and reverent. The flecks of sunlight piercing through her curtains didn't rouse her, instead making her bed nice and toasty. Then her alarm went off. It caused a mild disturbance, and Quinn cursed herself for placing it on the other side of the room. It was supposed to force her to wake up, but it only ever dishevelled her appearance on her way to switch the bloody thing off and sleep in an extra ten minutes.<p>

As always, she made a half-hearted attempt to flail in the direction of the snooze button, which was several meters away. However, this time her arm stretched to ungodly lengths and managed to silence the incessant beeping.

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><p>Avery slipped into her combat gear. Despite the fact it provided her with weapons and a hefty layer of protection, it was quite comfortable to wear. She fumbled with her gloves while motioning the rest of the Kryptonights to assemble.<p>

"Alright guys," she said. "We have a mission at McKinley high."

"Not another high school." Rue sighed. Her black skin and piercing blue eyes disappeared under her helmet and face guard.

"We're going to have to be rough." Boseth, already wearing his head apparel, spoke with a hint of regret. "It's non-negotiable, unless we want a repeat of what happened last time. I would never forgive myself for letting another person go the way Jackson did-"

Avery inhaled sharply. She shook with both sadness and anger. "We don't talk about that, remember?" She said icily, sliding on her helmet. "Now let's go."

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><p>The entire Glee club sat in the choir room, counting down the seconds until the end of the school year. A euphonious cheer erupted from the room, and echoes of the same merits could be heard from other classes. They stayed and cheered for a second, and once the screams had died down, Quinn demanded attention.<p>

"I have to show you guys something," she said, from her place at the piano. She looked at the ajar door. "But I don't want anyone to see." She extended her arm again, a couple of metres, and slammed it shut. She grinned at everyone's gasps, expecting as much. "I found out this morning."

Everyone exchanged congratulations before Artie interrupted. "I don't want to make it seem like I'm trying to one up you, but..." he stood out of his wheelchair. "I can walk."

Tina gasped. "You bastard!"

Artie furrowed his brow. "What? No! I only figured this out last night. I think it was that slushie too. I've been lugging myself around because I would have freaked everybody out otherwise."

"That's a smart choice, Artie," Mr Schue replied. "We still have to be very cautious with this."

"I think we should stay back and discuss a game plan," Rachel suggested. "In a few minutes the whole school should be empty – so it's really a perfect time to do so. That way we don't ruin our lives over the holidays." She looked at Finn for support, who nodded on queue. Everyone else reluctantly agreed.

"Okay," Mr Schue said. "It's settled. Free time for the next ten minutes, and then once the rest of the school has left we can have a proper discussion."

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><p>Scribbling harshly in her diary, Sue noticed an unpleasant noise outside her office. She paused, and waited for people to approach. She was slightly surprised by the three people who greeted her, coated with black lightweight armour, but she did not let it show. Instead, she addressed them with her usual prickly welcome.<p>

"You must be Sue Sylvester," said the smallest. They weren't visible beyond their amber face shield, but the thick, velvety voice made Sue guess it was a female.

"You are correct. And am I correct in guessing you are the Kryptonights I've sent for?"

She nodded. "Avery, Boseth, Rue."

Sue leaned back and looked up from her chair. She grimaced. "I hope no other students found your apparel... concerning."

"There's none so far that we've come across," Avery informed.

"Wonderful, they must have left for summer break." She smiled. "Well, if you'd like to get started follow the sound of a regret laden teacher teach his tone deaf students how to wail in merciless harmony."

"Got it. We'll try not to get too much blood on the floor."

"Perfect, otherwise they'd mop it up and try to use it in a Chicago musical." Sue chuckled, before interpreting what had been said. "Blood?" She stood up, and the Kryptonights halted.

"Correct. Blood." Rue withdrew a device from her pocket, tinkering with the two antennae protruding from its top. "If our detector scans them as a threat, we will have to exterminate them to protect ourselves and others."

"Ex-exterminate?" Sue spluttered profusely. "Th-that's preposterous! They're just high school students. Can't you just make them normal and inferior again? This was not on the card!" She crossed her arms.

"New policy in regards to... recent events." Avery replied with a tight lipped smile. She folded her hands behind her back. "What has to be done, must be done." They were all distracted by a sudden beeping from the detector in Rue's hands.

Rue narrowed her eyes. "It says that... _you're_ powerful." She pointed at Sue.

"What?" Avery and Boseth checked the detector as well. It was correct. "Well, sly move, Sylvester," Avery spat, withdrawing an odd looking ray gun from a holster on her back. "But we're going to have to do away with you just like the others."

And with nothing more than a gunshot and broken scream, Sue Sylvester fell painfully back into her chair, her face's pallor confirming her death.

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><p>"Did you guys hear that?"<p>

They all paused. There was no denying it was some mutual hallucination. The screams of Sue Sylvester had echoed around the room. It was her usual bout of rage scream, but one that was full of pain, making it all the more unnerving.

"Sue?" Mr Schue walked to the door and screamed out her name. There was no response. He was half hoping for her to appear in the empty hallway and break the silence h a less alarming sound, but how could she? She was dead. Mr Schue turned back around to face his students. "Stay here." His voice was tense, and the hand that closed the door behind him shook uncontrollably on the knob. Usually when he gave out orders he was more passive, but he couldn't be so lenient when they were this in the dark. The Glee Club seemed to understand, and silently obeyed. If it wasn't for all that had happened the past two days, and they were still a bunch of normal teenagers, maybe they would have cared less. But they were filled with anxiety, expecting the worst to happen. And it did.

"I feel weird," Finn whispered into Rachel's ear. He didn't want to sound like he was trying to draw attention away from the current situation, but there was something urgent about this state.

"Not now, Finn," Rachel hissed back. She returned her gaze to the door with such speed her hair flicked in his face.

Finn's face took to it an unnatural pallor. No one noticed, so he silently struggled with the sensations. There was an unbelievable amount of visceral pain, and he thought that maybe his appendix was exploding. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Not at a time like this. The pain began to move, crawling up his chest. It grew more painful as it relocated in his throat. He gargled, unable to make coherent speech, to notify everyone that he was dying. At first, everyone scoffed in his direction, but then looked on hopelessly as Finn began to change.

"Finn? Finn!" Rachel pleaded with the boy, shaking his arm. But the boy's face was expressionless, staring a thousand miles in front of him. "What's wrong?" She looked up at everyone else. "Help! I don't know what to do!" The sound of mild steel scraping against the floor was heard the glee club circled around Finn and Rachel. Everyone stood watching, wanting to help, but not knowing how to.

The irises of Finn's eyes changed from dark brown to a light blue, and he closed his agape mouth. Everyone took a step back. Finn seemed as if he was going to explode. Instead, he opened his mouth once more and started talking. Except it wasn't his voice.

"I'm sorry."

The raspy apology made everyone gasp. "Is that... Sue?" Quinn stared in disbelief.

"They're coming. Run. They're coming to kill you. Leave." Then Finn shut his mouth again. Quite quickly, his eyes returned to normal, and he collapsed back into his chair.

Rachel fussed over him, slapping his gently on the cheek and ignoring everyone's suggestions. She tried to clear her mind and find a logical method of action, but it was impossible with the buzz of everyone talking. "Shut up!" She bellowed desperately, turning around to glare at them. They were suppressed, but the quiet was broken by another blood curdling scream.

"Mr Schue..." Tina gasped. No one spoke after the scream, and even Rachel was distracted from Finn. None of them looked up, gazing at the tiled floor. There was no denying what just happened.

"Maybe... maybe he's okay?" Kurt choked, not even believing himself. They paused, teary eyed and silently distraught. Their teacher, their mentor, their friend. Gone. Just like that.

Unfortunately there was no time for grieving, as the choir room door was kicked open. Three figures with helmets covering their faces, forced them backwards. All except Rachel, who sat hopelessly near Finn "There's no use in running." One said coldly. "We've got the whole school locked."

"W-who are you?" Mercedes stuttered. She hadn't realized it before, but now everyone was behind her. "What do you want?" She clutched the cross through her clothing, trying to breathe steady.

"You don't need to know." The furthest figure replied. And with that, weapons were raised, and three bangs were fired. Mercedes screamed, waiting for impact. She was braced, eyes closed, every bone in her body shaking, just waiting for it to be over. But the moment never came. She slowly opened one eye. The three people at the door weren't moving. She turned around, and everyone else was confused too.

"Look," Lauren pointed at the clock on the wall. It stopped.

"That must be your power!" Sam affirmed hastily. "You can stop time! Quick! We have to move!" He and Mike grabbed the still unconscious Finn, and the group exited the room, the Kryptonights still statued. Slamming the door shut, Puck locked it with the key and melted the keyhole, fleeing the same way as the others.

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><p><strong>Warning:<strong> Character Death


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